Sooner or Later
by Silver Evenstar
Summary: A series of one-shots and Drabbles. Mostly Olicity, but I love the other Team Arrow members too !
1. Why?

_**Why?**_

If there was one thing that bugged Felicity, it was always the _why_. Why did people think revenge gets them anywhere? Why stay with someone you love when they don't love you back? Why was it so easy for some to trust, and so easy for others to break that trust? Why why _why_?

Honestly Felicity couldn't actually remember the exact date it started. Not that she would have complained because deep down it made her incredibly happy that Oliver _trusted_ her enough to let her see him like this. She had always thought that maybe Laurel—now that she knew Oliver's secret identity—would be the one he'd flee to. After all he didn't have to hide it from her anymore and those two always found a way back to each other (not that she ever dwelled on it mind you).

There was no telling how long it had been going on, but the first time Felicity found Oliver on her _couch_ in the middle of the night wasn't one she was likely to ever forget. She had woken up from a rather fitful sleep—not a nightmare per say—but it was certainly a dream she hadn't wanted to give the chance to morph into one. There were plenty of Slade filled nightmares, and all she wanted was a bottle of water from her fridge. She hadn't expected the dark shadow occupying her couch, barely lit from the moon outside.

The first night Oliver had appeared she had no idea how to handle the situation. It had been awkward to put it _mildly_. Words had been stuttered out, not to mention the entire _week_ afterwards. Neither of them could look at each other for longer than a few seconds (it reminded her of the week she couldn't look at him after the "I love you" fiasco actually), but like most things they eventually got over it—though it was never actually discussed. In the back of her mind she knew that they really should talk about it, but really how does one get the brooding Oliver Queen to open up with prodding anyways? It was a constant _why_ in the back of her head.

The second time didn't go smoothly at all either. She had gone to bed, only to lay awake for hours before realizing she had left her tablet on the coffee table—and apparently Oliver had taken up her couch again in her absence. Felicity had no idea if she should be upset at his appearance in her _locked_ apartment, or just accept it. Given the hour she couldn't find the heart to badger him about the why (seriously _why_ didn't he just ask instead of breaking in) and fetched a spare blanket and pillow from her guest bedroom. She dropped the items wordlessly on the edge of the couch, snatched up her tablet and returned to her room in a huff to pointedly ignore the vigilante on her couch.

The third time she found him on her couch he _tried_ to talk to her. Only somehow it seemed to simply aggravate him when she asked _why_ he was showing up in the middle of the night unannounced. Oliver couldn't get his silver tongue to form any sort of cohesive sentence and ended up storming out of her apartment without clues as to why he was there in the first place. The only words he left her with were "_I just…" "I can't…" "I needed…" "I don't…"_. But Felicity prided herself on knowing her own personal superhero (he so wouldn't approve of the nickname, but too bad). Besides Oliver had tried, and she was a genius after all. If he could at least try, then so could she.

Sometimes they lost—probably more than any of them would like to admit. Sometimes the bad guy got away, sometimes someone lost their life. Oliver always carried guilt heavily on his shoulders, and since the whole near destruction of their city ( yes _theirs_, they fought to keep it safe after all) for a second time—Oliver seemed to feel the need to ensure nothing that bad happened to the city a third time.

Felicity however for all her thinking couldn't actually pinpoint a reason. At first she thought maybe perhaps it was botched missions—especially those that might have ended with the loss of life. But then, she didn't stalk her apartment _every_ night to see if Oliver was there—she'd never get any rest if she knew he was _always_ out there (because knowing the object of her every desire was sleeping on her couch just led to _other_ thoughts).

But coming to the conclusion she now had was much simpler than she would have ever guessed, even if it went against her every _why_ instinct. Sitting on her couch in the middle of the night on one end, legs tucked under her while she dragged her fingers across the scalp of the man who saved the city day in and day out (or was that night in and night out… eh whatever) because his head was currently resting _in_ her lap as he stretched out across the rest of the couch. Her eyes glued to whatever she might have on her DVR as one of his hands trailed up and down her calf—every once and awhile crawling up just above her knee to give her thigh a light squeeze (the first time he pulled _that_ she had barely kept herself grounded to the couch).

Felicity couldn't number the amount of times they had ended up like this. She stopped keeping track the moment she realized—she didn't care _why_. For whatever reason Oliver chose _her_. Trusted her enough to see a vulnerable spot—especially after his explosion of reasons without any words. To just show up in her apartment again after that… it couldn't have been easy for him. The moment she let go of the _why_, they had slowly evolved into—well for lack of better words—cuddling. His touch always seemed to be a reaction to hers, letting her know that she hadn't overstepped any boundaries (cause lord knew that was like walking through land mines in more ways than one) and now they were here—wherever that was.

She supposed for some it would be easy to over think their current positions. Hell, if a stranger (or maybe even certain members of their team come to think of it) spotted them as they were now—well the rumor mill would never die. All Felicity knew was that she was _happy_, and that he was calm—and dare she think it—maybe a little happy too. Felicity wasn't bound to shatter his bubble… though she couldn't stop wondering if maybe she could talk him into moving this cuddling to the bedroom (because knowing her she'd make it sound all kinds of dirty and lets face it, for once she wouldn't be able to lie about _not_ thinking about _that_). But really, falling asleep on the couch all the time sitting up was messing with her back.

The man sprawled across her lap when rigid under her fingers and Felicity withdrew her eyes from the TV in confusion to look down at him. He shifted, pushing himself up with one arm to just… _stare_ at her. His eyes looked darker than normal to her, but for the longest moment he was unreadable. She knew that mask—the one he wore when he _thinking_ and she wondered for the millionth time just what he was thinking about. He was looking for something—some kind of sign from her. She just had no idea what it was.

"Okay."

The single word seemed to echo in the room around them despite the sound from the TV and Felicity could feel her heart leap in her chest as Oliver pulled away completely, coming to his feet. He never left—at least not until after morning coffee. It wasn't until he reached down and twisted his fingers with hers to tug her up off the couch as well and began to lead her towards her _bedroom_ that she even realized that her thoughts about cuddling in the bedroom must not have been as silent as she intended for them to be. The mask had left his face already, replaced with the slight twist of his lips in a smirk (infuriatingly handsome man _knew_ she was embarrassed), and Felicity barely spared a moment to hit the off switch on the TV remote before they disappeared into her room.

It was the first time in her life she was glad she didn't want to know the _why_. The why didn't matter. _They_ mattered. Why could come later.


	2. Trust

_**Trust**_

It was the stupidest question Oliver had ever posed to her really. Given the circumstances of their history together he should have known better. After all she had claimed long ago before she even _knew_ he was the Arrow that she felt that she could trust him. He claimed he had one of those faces, but Felicity was never one to judge a book by it's cover (though he _did_ have one of the best—he didn't need to know that).

Felicity trusted her life entirely to Oliver Queen. So much that she offered herself up as bait to one of the most psychotic men she had ever had the least luck to meet. She knew Oliver would come for her—for Slade in the very least. It was the plan after all, though she had no idea if she was actually going to survive the encounter (she had no doubt that he would do his damned best to ensure she _would_ however). But she trusted him—her hero—to do his best and while it had been a rocky start when they first met, he hadn't disappointed her. It wasn't about killing or not killing—it was about him trying to be the man she knew he _was_ (though the less killing that went on the better for _him_, even if he didn't know it she did). No, he never disappointed her in that aspect. Ever.

This however—this was harder for her than offering herself up as bait. There was something uniquely dangerous about this particular situation. Not to her body, but her heart. They weren't anything to each other, except very close friends. Though his question posed something else entirely. The _thing_ that hung between them unanswered seemed highly at risk if she answered wrong—but he was staring at her. It was almost beseeching actually that she tell him the truth now more than ever. He knew she trusted him with her life—but he wasn't asking her to risk her life.

_**"Do you trust me?"**_

It was a heavy question to between them. The seconds seemed to stretch on forever as they just gazed between each other (Roy called it "eye sex" whatever that meant). Just barely out of hear shot stood Laurel, gowned and dolled up into even more "Gorgeous Laurel" than usual. She was a picture of _everything_ that belonged with Oliver Queen. This _mission_ needed their high profile selves—something that Felicity did _not_ fit into. She was the IT girl—his EA at best. Felicity had no name in the city. Laurel however… well she fit beside Oliver in more ways than one. And said woman was scrutinizing the exchange between her and Oliver closely. She could see it out of the corner of her eye.

It was difficult for Felicity to not consider the fact that standing next to "Gorgeous Laurel" all night might cause Oliver to fall back into old habits. There was no Tommy this time to separate them—no secrets to shove space into. They cared for each other, Felicity would never deny them that. But old habits died _hard_, especially between those two. Felicity would be stuck underground in the lair, _waiting_ all night while these two would be attached at the hip. Felicity wasn't fond of jealously but it was clawing up her spine in an ugly way. One that made her want to spit out the word "no", and storm away from the both of them.

She might have actually, if he hadn't asked. Because they _weren't_ together (no matter how much she may have wanted). There was no reason for him to even ask this specific question for that very reason. It was a vulnerable question—it muted the sensation of jealousy to a low burn in her stomach. In fact even over the burn was butterflies, making it difficult not to fidget under his gaze. His question indicated to the _something_ between them. He was acknowledging—that he understood that this was difficult for _her_. It was the first time he ever acknowledged that he _saw_ it.

"Yes."

And it was the truth. Oliver relied on her to be the one woman in his life that didn't have to lie to him. And she meant it. He knew it, she could see it in his eyes. She was just as vulnerable, and she would leave it all in his hands. Because as he flashed her a weak but genuine smile, brushing his hand across her elbow for just a split moment before leaving her side to join Laurel, Felicity let herself hope. She may be the IT girl, but maybe Oliver (Boss, Arrow, and _Best Friend_), might actually feel the same way. She could wait.

Something told her it would be more than worth it.

**So this one was inspired by Mariss95's Plural Chapter in her own drabble collection "Once Upon A Time". I love her writing~! It was a prompt given to her, which kind of turned into a prompt for me because I wanted to fill out my own version of it in a longer sense.**


	3. Something To Fight For

A/N: Okay so I'm not entirely sure how I feel about this one. It's long(er) than the others, but I dunno. This idea just popped into my head as I watched the newest Arrow. We love the angst, but I feel so bad for Oliver. The guy just... can't win lol. Anyways there are spoilers all the way up through 3x03 so if you haven't seen them yet you might want to skip this one. Any and all mistakes are mine given I have no beta lol.

Also I do have a part 2 in mind if anyone wants me to write it out. ^.^

_**Something To Fight For**_

It's not that she _mad_ at him per say. Felicity completely understands his reasons—that doesn't make them any easier to swallow though. The fact that he doesn't deny that he's going to _die_ down there only pushes her further into what she thought she wanted. No that wasn't entirely right. She did want more, and for awhile chasing other prospects made her happy. Sort of.

There was nothing like the thrill of working on IT projects again (QC). Or the flutter of attraction to someone that didn't push her away (Barry). Holding hands on a first date that she honestly didn't think could come from someone she couldn't stand at first (Ray). It was wonderful and completely normal. Something she desperately needed. And it was lovely while it lasted, but like most things in her life—_normal_ isn't her anymore.

She spends her nights helping her once boss and still friend fight crime. Baddies rise out of thin air and come out at them from all sides, and she spends her early mornings patching up her little misfit family before sending them on their way (or crawling away to her own bed, whichever comes first). And Felicity doesn't ignore the fact that if she truly wants normal then _this_ has to stop. But she doesn't want to leave them. They are her family. She doesn't have much in this life, but they are important to her and always will be.

It's that train of thought that leads Felicity to a choice she knows is coming, but has put off for she already knows the answer. Oliver resembles the man he had been months before when Slade was hanging over their heads (only this time is Ra's Al Ghul). Broody and tortured… she supposes he is. Nothing he ever seems to do truly saves the city, and she wishes that it didn't have to be like that. She still hates the distance between them, misses already how easily it had become to touch him even in platonic ways.

But she shouldn't miss it. She has Ray, and her days are normal in the very least and it was fun at first. But it's not anymore and Felicity hates the fact that she knows _why_. She doesn't want normal anymore. Normal was reserved for the girl she was before Oliver Queen waltzed into her office—chose her car to crawl into when his own mother shot him. This leads to long nights even when she returns home to contemplate why she has to want someone she can't have.

She likes Ray… he's a good man and compliments her in many ways—but he's not Oliver. And no matter how good a man Ray is, her heart just doesn't have a switch—she can't just turn her feelings off, it's far too late for that. Liking someone and loving someone are completely different, and she broods (Oliver is wearing off on her) over this fact for much longer than she'd like. But one night she can't help but think of one thing. One thing that changes her mind.

Maybe Oliver doesn't _really_ know how to fight for what _he_ wants. It was easy to think that before her, he had tried to fight for other women—to be with them. But one way or another _all_ the women in his life have turned on him. McKenna decided to just leave and not return, Laurel had her guilty conscious. Sara honestly was still in love with Nyssa (she assumes in the long run they were together because they understood each other, not through love). Even Helena didn't get what she wanted and turned on Oliver. Not to mention his mother (for as much as she did love her son) betrayed him, and Thea… while his sister may have returned, her arrival with Merlyn may have been a straight slap to the face.

It wasn't just the women in his life. He had lost his best friend and she knows that while they are their own twisted little family, there is no replacing Tommy. Slade ended up wacked out and Shado—she doesn't know if the woman would have stuck around, but if nothing else she was just another piece that fell through his life. _Why_ it was so dangerous to be with someone—because it's just as easy to lose them. The rocket that ruined their date might as well have been a flashback for Oliver. He didn't get to want things. Things he wanted slipped through his fingers the moment he got on that boat.

Before the island Oliver didn't have to fight for _anything_. He was that spoiled rich boy brat that got away with "murder" because his parents could bail him out of anything. He didn't have to fight then, and the only thing Oliver knew how to do now was fight for survival. He used what he learned to save _others_, but for himself? It suddenly made sense that night. Why Oliver was afraid of himself. Anytime he wanted something for himself it just went downhill. He always lost.

And the longer this one thought rotates around her mind, the more Felicity realizes she never has either. She had always been genius when it came to computers. She knew what she wanted—to get out of Vegas and into MIT and while she did work hard for that portion of her life—keeping people in her life wasn't something she tended to fight for either. There were boyfriends in high school and college, but since her father's disappearance… well her misfit family with Oliver was the closest she had been to anyone in a very long time. She has never truly fought for anyone either.

But she _wanted_ to. She didn't want to wait for Oliver to die. She wanted to show him what it was like to fight for something. Or someone. For anything. It's that night she decides that while Oliver may not know how to fight for something he wants, she sure as hell would. Or die trying (perhaps the pun was intended). Felicity wants to be with Oliver—she wants her brooding, tortured hero. So rockets and normal be damned… she's going to try. An honest to god try to make Oliver see she isn't going to be like everyone else in his life. She's going to live and dammit all it will be with him. Together with their little mixed up family.

It's easier said (or thought about) than done however. Felicity knows she has issues of her own to deal with. She has doubts… about herself and being able to make Oliver see anything beyond the dangers hanging over his head… and then there is Ray. Breaking up with him isn't as easy as she would have liked. He's resistant and charming, and doesn't give up easily either. It takes a full month of rebuking his advances and the ridiculous amount of flowers he sends to her apartment before she finally tells him the truth—that she's in love with someone else and that isn't going to change. It's touching, but doesn't even come close to deterring her.

It takes another month of trying to decide how to shift things back between her and Oliver to a more… normal state (normal for them anyways). It seems like most of the time he avoids her entirely unless she's needed and that hurts more than she'd like to admit. She literally has to pep talk herself into seeing that it is his way of avoiding making things harder for both of them. He already said the words, twice (_I love you_). Both in backwards ways, but she is clinging to those words for all they are worth. And their worth is a lot to her. So she decides to start off simple. She misses touching him… so she does.

It isn't anything major at first. It takes a lot of courage on her part, but she reminds herself that in the end it _could_ be totally worth it. One solid kiss from him, even at the end before there was a beginning had told her everything. She has to pass by him to get up the stairs one night, so she reaches out and lets her hand brush across his forearm. Gently, but there is no mistaking that she had done it on purpose. She doesn't have the courage to look back at him however, to see if he noticed or is even affected by her touch. He doesn't say anything about it the next day.

So she keeps it up. The touches increase when he makes no move to avoid them, or even say anything about it. She knows that he knows—that she is no longer with Ray. Between Roy and John, he had to know. Felicity grasps his hand now and then when he has a rough night, and once she even hugs him. They thought they had finally lost him—being separated from him for hours without contact. He was tired and obviously beat up, but there was no mistaking the tightness around her waist from the single arm he looped around her. He didn't push her away either, just naturally let space slide between them as before. Felicity takes it as a good sign.

* * *

"You are _not_ going Felicity." Oliver's tone is tight. She knows why of course, this mission is particularly dangerous and it's entirely likely she'll get hurt. Tension is practically rolling off his shoulders, but she doesn't budge on the subject. Instead she glares at him and mentally tries to remind herself why she's in love with such a stubborn asshole.

"It's not your _choice_ Oliver." She grinds out from between her teeth. She knows exactly what he's going to say next—the whole argument she can see three steps ahead.

"Yes it is. You are staying _here_." She sees him moving towards her out of the corner of her eye as she begins to pack her bag, carefully sliding her tablet into it.

"It's my life—"

"Damnit _Felicity_ I said no!"

"My choice!"

"_NO_!" He's fairly snarling at her, and she can see the rest of the team standing behind him unmoving. Roy and John know better than to get involved, but Laurel looks nervous. Felicity knows Oliver would never hurt her—certainly not physically and on purpose. But as she turns back to her computers to switch them into another mode to forward the information to her tablet, one of Oliver's hands latch onto her wrist and whirls her back to face him. Roy's muscles twitch, but he remains mostly still while Laurel begins to step forward before John's hand catches her shoulder to stop her.

Honestly Felicity wasn't planning on it. Yes, she had been touching him, but he never touched her back unless she did first. He had her so frustrated and bent out of shape her body—_heart_—reacts before her mind can catch up. He's much too tall while she's in her flats so her free hand reaches up to grasp the only part of his leathers that she knows she can grab onto. The zipper beneath his chin twists into her palm as she uses her strength to tug Oliver forward—who apparently is caught completely off guard by her movements and has no idea to even resist as she's never attempted this kind of a stunt before—and pull his lips directly to hers.

It takes Oliver _exactly_ a second (yes she counted, to the best of her ability anyway) to respond to her. Part of her had wondered before this if she kissed him again if he would push her away… actually she very much figured he would. He had been clear about not wanting to start something with her, that _she_ is pleasantly surprised when he returns the kiss. It's not the gentle sweeping kiss he gave her in the hospital. They practically mash themselves together, fighting for dominance and the passion behind the kiss leaves her entire body electrified instantly.

The need for air wins out however. She breaks away from his lips reluctantly before glaring back up at him. Somewhere in the middle of their kissing _war_ his own free hand had ended up on her hip, and she notes just how tight of a grip he has on her. Not painful—but his fingers flex against her skin as if they were trying to make up their mind. To let go or cling on. He's staring at her in a daze. A cross between anger and shock. Good… he's just as affected then.

"I'm going." She growls before she plants a quick kiss back on his lips—all while still glaring—before she releases his leather. Oliver doesn't say anything… doesn't try to stop her as she slips from his grip, grabs her bag and starts her way to the stairs. She can see the rest of her team starring at them… at her. Felicity chalks it up to shock and awe as well as she starts her way up the stairs before anyone else tries to stop her, but as she opens the door she can clearly hear Roy.

"Dude… she just _kissed_ you into submission!"


	4. The Weight of War

**_A/N: _**Okay so honestly, I have no idea where this one came from. I think I was nostalgic for the original "Team Arrow". Not that I don't love Roy as part of the team but hey, nothing beats our original three. It's fairly short, and I suppose kind of Plot Without Point, but I kinda love it anyways.

Spoilers 03x04

_**The Weight of War**_

Felicity is sure Oliver is about to snap. The tension in his shoulders, in his jaw, gives it all away. The worst part was she had _missed_ a very large problem and having to recap just what exactly went down while she was away in Central City. Passing Nyssa of all people on the stairs (who looked ready to murder) wasn't entirely unexpected, but still surprising none the least. Eventually she had figured the woman was bound to show up—Sara was dead after all.

_"What did I miss?"_ The look on Oliver's face was—heartbreaking to say the least. Laurel was pacing the floor in an obvious nervous fashion and Roy didn't look much better for that matter. Dig huffed out a sigh and Felicity recognized the sign immediately (the perks of having been with her team for so long) that something bad had indeed gone down.

Oliver had basically made an enemy out of one of the worst by the simple fact that he was… well technically saving the life of one Malcolm Merlyn. Laurel had spent the past hour _since_ the recap trying to talk Oliver down from his lofty goal of leaving Merlyn alive. _"He deserves it Oliver. Even if it wasn't Sara… it was still Tommy and _half_ the Glades!"_ Felicity was still a little shell shocked over the change in Laurel. She knew her sister's death (again) had deeply affected her, but she had never seen Laurel so—out for blood. Literally. In the end the woman gave up, muttering about how stubborn and pigheaded Oliver was being and opted to just leave before she really lost her temper.

While Felicity could certainly see Laurel's point—Merlyn was one of the last people on the planet that deserved saving—and now Oliver had incited war on not just him, but _everyone_ involved with him. Over a man that had killed almost a thousand people (she's adding in sins she sure are there _before_ the Glades went down). With Laurel's exit and Roy's insistence to check on Thea, Felicity could see the weight Oliver had been hiding from the others. Part of her was touched really, that while Oliver may have let others see his alter ego, apparently he only truly let he walls down around Dig and her. And they both knew to let Oliver come to voice his concerns first—they would work from there.

"Did I do the right thing?" Oliver's voice was tired—a heavy kind of tone that made it seem like he was bearing the weight of the world on his shoulders. She couldn't blame him really, seeing as things just kept piling up on top of the group and it seemed like there was no way out anymore. Merlyn could be quite the enemy, they already knew that much. But the league… what little they did dealt with them over the last year, well Felicity didn't want to think about being boxed in by two different sets of enemies. But that didn't change the fact that in _her_ opinion Oliver had indeed done the right thing.

"Yes." The answer was uniform—in perfect sync with Dig's voice. She couldn't have helped the small grin that spread across her face as she glanced at Dig. Oliver turned on his heel, eyes locking on the two of them in almost disbelief. They hadn't even hesitated to answer.

"We've always stood behind you Oliver. We've stood up when we thought you were wrong, or when you needed direction, but right now…" Dig shrugged slightly. "Merlyn has done terrible things, but no one should ask of you to kill him. It never solves anything… given the whole Slade debacle I think we three have at _least_ learned that."

"Diggle I just made enemies with some of the most feared people across the _world_." Felicity could hear that line of tension in his voice. The sound that Oliver was about to crack, and the last time he had cracked he had nearly given up his life to Slade. She couldn't have stopped herself from stepping closer to him, didn't even bother trying. Oliver's eyes followed her as if she held the answer to _everything_ he needed to hear, but Dig beat her to it first.

"Then we deal with it as it comes Oliver; like we always have—as a team." Dig stood, reaching out to grasp Oliver's shoulder in a firm grasp before releasing it and following the trail of the rest of the team upstairs. Silence fell in around the two of them instantly, save for the quiet hum of her computers on the other side of the room. Since the disastrous date normally one of them would withdraw from the other, but Felicity stood her ground. Not one foot between them, she kept her gaze firmly locked on his. Oliver looked like he had something to say—probably a lot of things actually—but nothing came out. So she spoke first.

"I'm _proud_ of you."

Whatever Oliver expected her to say, that was certainly not it. His eyes widened a fraction and he couldn't seem to help but tilt his head to one side as confusion settled in behind surprise. A smile tugged at the corner of her lips and she huffed up softly at him.

"Don't look so surprised. I know… I know it probably would have been easier to kill Merlyn, especially given all that he's done. And yes it might have kept the League from coming after us but let's face it. Eventually we probably would have gotten in the way of a target—Merlyn or otherwise—and we would have to face them." Oliver grunts slightly at her logic, though she's not entirely sure if he's agreeing with her or denying the fact.

"You held to your vow Oliver. John's right, we already know killing people doesn't solve problems—either choice would have its own consequences. At least you can hold your head up high knowing you did the right thing… not what everyone else wants you to do." Reaching out she snags his hand in hers, giving it a soft squeeze before adding, "I think Tommy would be proud of you too."

She really does believe that.

Releasing his hand after a moment longer, she turns and starts her way to the stairs. Tomorrow is going to be a long day and Oliver is going to need her to be on her A game. And she's going to have it. For Sara, for Tommy, for the team… for Oliver, because he needs her right now to support him. And no matter what's gone down between them, she will _always_ be there for him.

"Felicity?" His voice is soft, but echoes across the room with ease. She turns at the base of the stairs to look at him and while the tension hasn't left his body entirely—he looks a little more at ease.

"Thank you."


	5. Something To Fight For Part II

_**A/N:**_ I haven't really had time to go back over this and edit it. I'll reread it either tomorrow or the day after to go through whatever mistakes I can find and fix them.

Honestly this one took me longer than I wanted because what I had written up just didn't come together in the end, so I ended up rewriting most of it. On the bright side, there will be a part 3 and that will likely be the last part in this "mini series", though I may refer to it in the future!

_**Something To Fight For Part II**_

"I thought you liked him Felicity. You used to go on forever until one of us stopped you about how you two got along." Felicity draws in a short breath before swiveling her chair to face Laurel. It's not that she doesn't like the woman, in fact given time she honestly thinks they could be friends. But Laurel is very much like Oliver in the way that once she had something on her mind, she was a little blind to other things that went on around her. That included her break-up with Ray Palmer.

"We did—still do—get along famously. But…" Honestly she had no idea how to tell Laurel that the reason she broke up with _her_ boyfriend, was so that she could pursue Laurel's own _ex_. Laurel wasn't stupid, she knew the tension going on between her and Oliver. Saw the bloody kiss for that matter—but she also knew Oliver had pulled away.

"You're waiting for Oliver?" Waiting didn't seem like the appropriate term. _Chasing_ fit better, but chasing down a man with the mind of a brick wall was a little exhausting. Shrugging slightly, she turns her chair back to the computer with the intent to work on something—anything—and avoid the rest of the conversation, but Laurel decides to ignore the hint.

"I get it. I don't know what's going on between you and Oliver, but he's obviously avoiding it and you just… broke it _off_ with a really great guy. Someone that sounded like you could spend the rest of your life with." Felicity couldn't stop the wince that crawled over her at Laurel's logic. It's not that it was wrong… it just sounded so very much like Oliver. Despite him never saying a word about her relationship she knew he wanted her happy. He just didn't think it would be with him (at least not long enough to survive).

"You just don't strike me as the type to give up so easily is all. Can I ask why?" It was a simple question that had a loaded answer to it. She wasn't sure she wanted to tell Laurel that she wasn't giving up—not really. Laurel had it backwards… if she dated Ray then it was her giving up on _Oliver_, and her entire being was backpedaling away from the thought. She couldn't actually give up what she never truly put her heart into in the first place.

Felicity considered it a blessing when her boys (all three of them) come thumping down the stairs behind them, effectively cutting of their conversation. Out of the corner of her eye she can see Oliver observing the two of them, though he's got his mask carefully in place and Felicity can't decide if he's curious—or nervous.

"You girls alright?" It's John that asks the question however and Felicity bites her bottom lip, unsure of what exactly is the right answer. It's Laurel that pipes up and Felicity decides that she really should get to know the woman. They really could be good friends.

"Just girl talk."

* * *

Felicity loved their first kiss. Granted at the time it had been severely depressing once they had separated, but for those few seconds they were connected it had been unbelievable. It wasn't that she was surprised Oliver could kiss her with such tenderness—it was the simple fact that it was aimed at her at all. With the date having gone down in a spiral of flames (quite literally), she hadn't actually thought she'd ever get to kiss him.

Of course when she had initiated their second kiss there was no argument in her mind just which kiss had become her favorite. Because tenderness was all well and good, but to know that Oliver _wanted_ her as much as she did him just justified all the effort she had been putting behind her plans. He had to want her just as badly, or fighting for him really didn't matter. She couldn't fool herself into thinking he was just confused about his feelings towards her any longer. His sense of (over)protectiveness was the only thing that stood between them. That and his immeasurable self-control.

And honestly he had an overabundance of self-control, because it took everything in her power not to attempt another kiss. The first night after the kiss she had considered just kissing him until he broke down, but Felicity knew better. The kiss—no matter how good—was a mistake. Because this was going to put Oliver right back into defensive mode, and she had been correct. He was wary of her, his eyes constantly watching her for her next move as if she'd likely jump him again (sometimes she swears he's a mind reader).

His wariness even faded across to her simply touching him. She could practically feel him tense whenever she approached him even when he wasn't directly looking at her. While the thought hurt at first, it took only a few weeks for Felicity to realize this was Oliver's way of self-control. He had snapped so easily under her lips, and she had the feeling if she _could_ catch him off guard again his control would snap again. And he _wouldn't_ stop her.

She won't bother denying how much that thought excited her.

But the kiss certainly had put a kink in her plans. If approaching him was enough to put him on edge, then she'd have to find another way to show him. This currently had her stumped because she had no idea how to show him how much she cared besides the obvious things—which he was avoiding. He let her patch him up, talk him down after a night of hell, and offer the rare strand of comfort in a touch. But he was already guarded to these things, resisting them with that bloody self-control.

She was going to have to find another way to show him besides the obvious.

* * *

In the end it seems the thing that softens Oliver isn't her actions, at least not directly. Felicity knows the small things matter, but honestly she has stalled in her planning (though she had _not_ given up). It was almost frustrating because it's the little things that made the difference—but she already did those things. Or she did in her opinion. As much as she wanted to be the one to show Oliver how to fight for them at some point it really was up to him. How badly did Oliver want to be with her? He loved her, she completely believed him. But she could condemn him for his obstinate tendencies sometimes.

It's on a rare quiet night that things shift between them. Roy takes off on patrol and Digg calls it an early night to spend time with his family. The sounds of Oliver training behind her echo through the small room as she runs various scans on her computer that desperately need an update. Oliver had already told her to head home, but she had insisted that her babies need quality time beyond hunting down criminals. He grunted something unintelligible, took a sidewards glance at her before wandering off on his own.

She's not sure how long they've been alone, but Felicity absorbs the time for all it's worth. It is the kind of _normal_ she's come to love in her life, but as a program pops up across her screen demanding her attention she reluctantly pulls her attention from the sounds around her to a more pressing matter on the screen. For several minutes she types across the keyboard, but it slowly sinks in that the sounds behind her have stopped. Blinking, Felicity lifts her fingers from the keyboard and shifts her chair to the right—to find Oliver standing over her.

"Oliver! Geez you need a bell or something!" Her voice comes out as a squeak from surprise, but as she lifts her face to look at him fully she realizes he's not looking at her face—but he is most certainly staring at her. And she has no idea why. "Oliver?"

He doesn't respond at first, just continues to stare at her with a look on his face she can't quite decipher—and she's prided herself on being able to read him better over the past few years. She opens her mouth to ask him what's wrong, but Oliver _moves_ first. His left hand comes up slowly—hesitantly—to the industrial piercing in her right ear and Felicity understands instantly just what he's staring at exactly.

Shortly after she had broken it off with Ray, she had been looking for distraction. Out of curiosity she had gone looking for a new piercing when she had come across something that had made her laugh. An arrow barbell. They actually seemed to be 'all the rage' in Starling City given who it's savior was and Felicity couldn't help but buy it. The idea that it might give her away did little to deter her—her life had been officially saved by the Arrow. She doubted anyone would go so far as to assume she _worked_ with him. To anyone that did know it looked to be a private joke—though Felicity couldn't help but feel she was marking herself with his icon.

Honestly she had only intended to wear it once for kicks and remove it later… but apparently she had forgotten all about it. It takes forever (to her) for his index finger to reach her, brushing against both metal and skin. Felicity barely manages to swallow the groan trapped in her throat, but she can't help the shiver that slides down her spine or the goosebumps that follow along her arms. There was something about him that just made lightning shoot through her entire being when he touched her.

Her heart swooped dangerously in her chest as a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. This was the first time since their first kiss that he had touched her first. The Oliver that had begun to surface before Vertigo's appearance was still inside him and it reinforced every thought she had about fighting for him. His index finger shifts until his hand rests on the back of her head, letting his thumb brush against the metal and skin again. Felicity lets her own smile grace her face as she leans into his touch as her eyes drift shut.

"Are you making a statement?" Oliver's voice sounds thick, like he has a million emotions just trying to get out with words alone. She opens her eyes to look up at him again, and his stare is intense—but the smile remains.

"If you mean did I do this on purpose… not really. But if it works for you go with it." She echoes words she had once said to him long ago, before she knew him as the Arrow. She wasn't sure he'd remember, but if the way his smile grew slightly was anything to go by he did.

"Not really?" His thumb is still sweeping circles around her ear and Felicity has no idea how such a simple act can spread heat through her body—but she can live with it happily (though it does make it rather hard to think). She shrugs half heartedly with a wider smile and Oliver chuckles lightly. "It looks good on you."

She can feel the blush rising to her cheeks at the compliment as he slowly removes his hand from her, insisting that she go home for the night as he returned to his training. There is literally no fight in her so she just nods happily and hums as she gathers her things.

Who knew a piece of metal could give her such renewed hope that Oliver might be on his way.


End file.
